


There are monsters that live in your head.

by OTPGirl



Series: Necromancer Curt [3]
Category: Spies Are Forever - Talkfine/Tin Can Brothers
Genre: Cynthia kinda fucked Curt up a bit, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Necromancer Curt Au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:46:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26188942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OTPGirl/pseuds/OTPGirl
Summary: Curt is very self-conscious about who he is, and Owen is there to help him feel better.
Relationships: Owen Carvour/Agent Curt Mega
Series: Necromancer Curt [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1810453
Comments: 2
Kudos: 49





	There are monsters that live in your head.

Curt curls happily against Owen’s warm chest. He traces his fingers up and down his lover’s abdomen, watching as the goosebumps rise in its tracks. Curt always has run cold, the curse of being a necromancer will do that to you, and usually anyone else feels uncomfortably hot to him. 

But not Owen. Owen always feels perfect, like a warm mug of cider on a brisk autumn day. He could stay wrapped in the British agent’s well-toned arms for the rest of his life and die happily. He knows that the other man isn’t the biggest fan of the cold, but Owen never complains. 

Owen is so amazing. He’s such a good person. Curt doesn’t deserve him, he doesn’t deserve this love and happiness in his life. He’s dark, he’s evil. 

Curt’s a monster.

“You’re not a monster, love.” Whoops, Curt must have been talking out loud and not just musing in his head. Owen sounds a mixture of horrified and angry. The American spy goes to pull away, but his lover’s arms tighten around him, holding him in place and preventing his escape. “Cynthia told you that, didn’t she?” 

“You know, not everything is Cynthia’s fault.” Curt weakly protests, to which Owen huffs annoyedly.

“That’s not a no.” Curt can hear rage bubbling just underneath Owen’s calm facade. He blames himself for ruining this perfect moment. If he had just not thought out loud, then everything would be fine right now. 

“I mean, she didn’t tell me that exactly…” It’s true. The words ‘you’re a monster’ never came out of the witches mouth, but it was plenty implied. Not that Curt could ever blame her, she’s given him a purpose. She’s given him a way to use these awful powers for something good. She’s the reason that he met Owen. 

Owen is so much more important to Curt than he could ever realize. Owen has become Curt’s tether to the land of the living. Anytime he feels the darkness of his powers, or the dead calling to him, trying to pull him into their domain, never to return, he just thinks about Owen. Dear, sweet Owen. Owen, who is so full of life and love and warmth. Owen, who loves Curt despite knowing what he is. Curt knows that he would be lost without Owen, so he allows himself to be selfish and cling to the other man despite knowing that letting Owen be free of him would be the best thing for the British Spy. 

Just one more example of how much of a monster Curt is. 

Suddenly, those warm, strong arms feel more like a cage than protection, and he pulls himself away, sitting on the edge of the bed back towards his lover. His head drops into his hands and he’s trying hard not to let the tears he can feel pricking in the corners of his eyes fall. 

He hears soft movement behind him and feels the bed shift ever so slightly. A pair of lips kiss the nape of his neck as arms softly wrap back around him, but much looser this time. Owen’s head comes to rest on his shoulder, but Curt refuses to look at him. 

“I love you.” Owen says softly, and if that doesn’t make the tears start to flow. Curt shakes his head, careful not to shake Owen free of his spot.

“You shouldn’t. I’m…” There are so many things that Curt could say, but none of them feel quite right. “I’m not good for you.” Is what he eventually settles on. Owen turns his face and pressed another kiss to his neck, this time on the side, before pulling away from Curt completely. 

“Curt, look at me.” Curt doesn’t want to. He knows that this will be the moment. The moment that Owen realizes that Curt’s right, he’s not good for Owen. That Owen can do so much better than him. He doesn’t want to look Owen in the eyes as he breaks this off. He’s not strong enough. “Please?”

Curt can’t resist Owen anything. His head suddenly feels like it weighs a thousand pounds, but somehow he finds the strength to pick it up and turn around to face his soon to be ex-lover. He readjusts himself so that he’s sitting on his knees, his head tilted down but eyes looking up at Owen, who is sitting crisscross. The taller man brings a hand up and towards Curt, and it takes everything the American has not to flinch away from the touch. Owen cups the side of Curt’s neck, thumb resting right over his pulse point. 

“You are not a monster. You are not dark. Those are things that Cynthia has you convinced of that are, quite frankly, bull shit. You are Curt Mega, the best spy in A.S.S. The Only American with at least somewhat good taste. One of the only humans alive who can sometimes beat me in a sparing match. And, most importantly, you are the man I love with all my heart. You are a beacon of light in my life. You are so kind and caring, and I absolutely admire you for that. No one who is dark or a monster could possibly care about people as much as you do. I know you might not believe me today, but I promise that I will be here by your side, reminding you of that every single day.” Owen sounds so sure and confident that Curt can’t help but believe him, at least a little bit. 

He surges forward and captures Owen’s lips with his own, wrapping his arms around the taller man’s shoulders and pulling him close. In turn, Owen’s hands come to rest on Curt’s waist. He lets Curt lead the kiss, not asking for anything, just giving Curt everything he needs. Once Curt is finally forced to drawback due to needing this little thing called oxygen, he rests his forehead against Owen’s. The two of them sit like that for a moment, letting their breaths mingle together before Owen breaks the silence by speaking.   
“If you can’t love yourself today, that’s okay. I will love you more than enough for the both of us.” Curt snorts at that. It’s incredibly sweet, by horribly corny at the same line. 

“Owen, that’s… kinda gay.” Owen rolls his eyes and lays back, pulling Curt down on top of him. Curt squeaks and weakly tries to push away, but there is no real force behind it. Eventually, Curt settles back against Owen’s chest and tucks his head underneath Owen’s chin, a small smile blooming across his face.

Curt is a monster, but Owen doesn’t see him that way. And for right now, that’s enough. 

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on Tumblr  
> Necromancercurtau


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